


Reactions

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Thor's Hammer (Marvel Cinematic Universe), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a long road trip to New Mexico... and Clint's bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> written for my [porn table](http://dazzledfirestar.livejournal.com/151061.html) for [avengers_tables on LJ](http://avengers-tables.livejournal.com/), prompt "vehicle sex". If you're wondering, I am assuming this all happens just before the events of "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Thor's Hammer".

The highway was as close to deserted as one could possibly get. The last vehicle they passed was nearly two hours ago and heading in the opposite direction. Sure, they were both used to these kind of trips. And sure, Clint was able to sit for days on end in the same spot while on a job but…

 

“I’m bored.”

 

Coulson sighed and just avoided rolling his eyes. “Of course you are.”

 

“If you had any decent music in here…” Clint started thumbing through the playlists on the iPod plugged into the car’s stereo. “Glen Miller? What are you? 90 years old?”

 

“It’s good stuff.” He didn’t even shrug. Didn’t make any move to show that Clint’s boredom might just be getting to him. And that was what Clint really wanted out of this… a reaction. Something he could latch onto and pick at until they get to New Mexico. Anything would do really.

 

Coulson—because technically they were on the clock so it was ‘Coulson’ and ‘Barton’ until Phil said otherwise—was focused on the road and the music Clint had begrudgingly put on at an obscene volume. It took another 15 miles for Clint to get _really_ bored.

 

He smirked before he spoke again. “Phil?” Clint’s hand moved across the low central console and landed high on Coulson’s thigh. “I’m _bored_.” He squeezed before sliding his hand up.

 

“I’m not pulling over.”

 

Clint almost lost the sound of his laugh in the music. “I didn’t ask you too.”

 

Coulson—because the look he was giving Clint wasn’t one Phil would give him—didn’t glare exactly, but it was a close thing. “No.”

 

“No?” The laugh didn’t get lost that time as Clint’s hand slid higher and his fingers traced over the growing bulge in Phil’s pants. “You don’t want me to suck you off?”

 

“I think you have a unique perspective on what I want right now.” He almost smiled, but the motion was cut off half way as a groan escaped his throat. “But we need to get to—“

 

“Yeah, yeah. The mission. Blah blah blah. I know.” Clint leaned across the console; undoing his seat belt and pressing his lips to Phil’s neck. “You’re going to work yourself to exhaustion and you’re no good to me then.” He smiled against his skin and gently squeezed Phil’s growing erection. “Have some fun while you can, _Agent_.”

 

Phil let out a low chuckle. “If I say stop, you stop.” He glanced over at Clint. “I am not explaining to some EMT why I’m bleeding from a very sensitive place and your neck is broken after a fender bender.”

 

“You’d rather some random traffic cop gets to see you with your dick out if we get pulled over?” Clint chuckled lightly.

 

“Of course not but given the choice between that and you dying in my lap…” Phil shook his head. “I’ll take the embarrassment.”

 

Clint’s hands moved quickly with the assent as Phil slowed the car to just under the speed limit. Definitely a far more reasonable speed than he had been going but still fast enough to make Clint pause for half a second. Phil’s hand rested on the back of his neck for a second, making Clint look up and see that ‘you don’t have to do anything’ look that said they were absolutely out of  Agent Coulson territory now.

 

Clint smiled up at him and pulled Phil’s cock out as slowly as he could manage. A few strokes got very little in the way of a reaction. Typical, of course but still. Clint wanted a _reaction_ , damn it and he was going to get one. He didn’t hesitate as he dropped his head and took as much as he could manage; moaning softly around Phil’s hard on.

 

He got a gasp and the grip on the back of his neck tightened. It was a start.

 

Swirling his tongue over the head of Phil’s cock got his hair pulled a little. Opening up his throat as much as he could and swallowing him down deep got him a groan. When Clint stopped moving his head with Phil as far down his throat as he could get and he traced his tongue over the underside of his cock, Phil’s hips bucked and Clint heard a very quiet “Fuck…”

 

Clint would have smiled if he could have pulled it off in that moment as he lifted his head a little and sucked hard. He pulled back completely with an obscene slurp and let the grin out. “We could have if you’d pulled over.” That got another groan, the hand at the back of his neck flexing—no doubt hinting that Clint should just shut up and go back to what he was doing—and a fluttering from Phil’s eyelids. “Eyes on the road, Coulson.”

 

Clint was past waiting for responses. He took Phil back in his mouth, sucking hard at the head of his cock again. Relishing the way the other man’s hand moved through his hair and tightened on his neck. He groaned when Phil momentarily drifted over, letting the car hit the rumble strip on the side of the highway. The vibrations came up through the center console and hit him with enough force to make it hard to concentrate on anything but his nearly painfully hard dick. Clint couldn’t stop the buck of his hips against the console or the soft string of curses that left him as he lifted his head. “Jesus… fuck!”

 

He got a chuckle for that.

 

“If you come all over the interior of my car, you’re cleaning it up.”

 

“Yes, sir.” He moaned again as the car drifted back over toward the rumble strip. “Oh… fuck _me_!” His eyes rolled back in his head as he rutted against the console. “And if I just embarrass myself and come in my pants?”

 

“Then I’ll have to think of something else to do to you, won’t I?”

 

He groaned again before running his tongue over the length of Phil’s cock and sucking him down again. Time blurred for Clint. Everything narrowed to the flesh in his mouth, the press of Phil’s hand on the back of his neck and the occasional rumble against his hard-on. Aside from the dim sense of road noise, the only sounds in the car are the radio—still playing songs that run together and that Clint can’t name because they were recorded forty years before he was born—and the occasional soft groan and gasp from the man driving the car.

 

One sharp buck of Phil’s hips was the first real sign that Clint got that he was close. The hand on his neck tightened again and the groan that left the agent’s mouth was decidedly loud. “Clint…” Phil’s voice was low and breathless and Clint moaned, knowing what was coming. He took Phil deeper; as deep as he could at that angle anyway and swallowed as the man moaned and lets out a string was what Clint liked to believe were curses. The last one definitely was. “Fuck… yes!”

 

How Phil had the presence of mind to hit the breaks in that moment, Clint would never know. He might have taken it for a slight against his efforts if not for the shaky moan and the hand tight in his hair as Phil came down his throat. He was grateful they didn’t end up in the ditch though as Phil caught his breath again and put the car back into motion. “Just going to leave me hanging, huh?” Clint sat back, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before licking his lips and palming himself through his jeans.

 

Phil leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to Clint’s lips before turning the car into a gas station. “I’m sure you can think of some way of handling that.” He nodded toward the bulge Clint was palming. “Want anything?” his door was half open as he asked.

 

“A hand job?” Clint moaned as he flicked the button on his jeans open.

 

The soft chuckle that Phil let out as he stepped out the door was half infuriating and half arousing. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Clint groaned as he slipped his hand into his jeans. It was a desperate noise. “Don’t scare the locals.”

 

Another chuckle flooded his ears. “Right, I’m sure my ability to pump gas and a weakness for donuts will surely send them all running for the hills.” Phil leaned across the console again, taking Clint’s lips in a bruising kiss. “Remember, no mess.”

 

“Uh huh…” Clint threw his head back and bit his lip and he was sure as hell not listening to anything Phil was saying. “You too.” A moment later he was biting back a strangled groan as he came hard, Phil still leaning in through the still open door. The agent smiled at him and shook his head.

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

Just before the car door clicked shut, a pack of wet naps hit Clint in the face. He smiled and wondered what kind of reactions he could get in the next hundred miles. The smile became a smirk as he cleaned himself off.

 

Clint Barton was definitely not bored anymore.


End file.
